


Nothing Changed and Everything Changed

by grey2510



Series: Misc SPN One Shots (<10k words) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Developing Relationship, Djinni & Genies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is partially poisoned by a djinn and its effects make him realize something about Castiel.</p><p>This is pretty much a spoiler-free / self-contained fic. It could take place at any point after Castiel's arrival in season 4 (although there is a very very brief reference to events in 9.22).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Changed and Everything Changed

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr ages ago (unfortunately I haven't been able to find it again -- if it was you, let me know and I'll credit it you!) that said something to the effect of "What if Dean was put in a djinn-verse and nothing was different than real life?" This is a bit of a twist on that idea.

 

 _If I live through this, Sammy’s never going to let me live it down_ , Dean’s brain unhelpfully supplied as the djinn pushed him against the wall by the throat. The Winchesters had decided to split up on this hunt, Sam taking a vampire an hour or two away and Dean taking the djinn. It was pretty rare for two cases to pop up at the same time in such close proximity, and with so much experience under their respective belts, they had figured they might as well just divide and conquer, wrap the cases up quickly before anyone else could get hurt. So much for that plan.

This djinn was angry. Dean wasn’t sure if he would be its next LaLaLand victim—an experience he did _not_ want to repeat—or if the djinn would just kill him outright. At the moment, it seemed like the latter. Dean gasped and tried to kick off the djinn, but he couldn’t get a good enough purchase. Purple spots started to cloud his vision, but through them, he saw the djinn’s eyes glow and felt the poison start to flow from its hands. Maybe he was wrong about the instant death. _All aboard the Crazy Train…_

The djinn still continued to choke the breath out of Dean, as if it was content to let fate decide what happened to the hunter—meal or death, whichever came first. Dean could feel himself slipping from consciousness, unsure if he would never wake up again or if he’d once more wake up in bed with some chick he didn’t know and a nine-to-five job.

 _Cas! Cas, I need you—!_ Dean didn’t even realize he’d been subconsciously praying for some trenchcoated backup until the final seconds before he slipped under. His eyes closed, but through the lids, white light pierced the purple haze and he felt the djinn’s hands release him. The muscles in his chest seared as his lungs rapidly expanded, taking in oxygen like it was going out of style. Blearily, he saw a familiar beige coat and a shock of dark hair.

“Hey, ‘bout time,” he slurred with a grin, and promptly passed out.

 -----

“Dean.”

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Dean tried to tell his eyes to open, but they were being just as stubborn as their owner. The hand shook him gently, then traced a line on his neck, right where the djinn had choked him. Dean’s eyes flashed open at the pain; the touch had been gentle, but his neck felt bruised and sore.

“Dean,” Cas’s gravelly voice said again. The angel’s brow was furrowed with concern and he was staring intently into Dean’s face. Not that that was anything new.

“Cas,” Dean rasped. “You ok, man? The djinn?”

Cas cocked his head slightly at Dean’s questions. “The djinn has been dealt with. I'm fine; _I_ was not the one knocked unconscious. Are you hurt?”

“I’m good, I’m good. What, no angel healing? Fix me right up?” Dean got up from the floor a little unsteadily, using Cas’ arm for support.

“I wasn't sure if you were simply unconscious or if you were under the djinn’s thrall. I thought it best to see if you would awake on your own first. Besides...” Cas began to explain, but at this he took his piercing blue gaze off of Dean and stared absently at the djinn lying on the floor. Before he could continue, Dean finished for him.

“You need to save your Grace.”

Cas nodded, ashamed. His shoulders slumped a bit, and Dean was again surprised to see such a human expression from this angel who had once made Vulcans seem like drama queens.

“I'm sorry. I don’t know how long this will last, and so I must be careful only to use it when absolutely necessary.”

“It’s alright, I can handle a few bruises. Hey, uh, thanks for coming when you did.”

“Of course, Dean. You're my friend,” the angel replied with a small smile.

Dean just stared at Cas, his green eyes wide. _Did Cas just say what I think he said?_ A part of him had always suspected, and a little voice in the back of his mind kept whispering that he was alright with this, that maybe he felt the same. _Fuck, what do I say now?_

“Uh yeah, I uh—thanks,” he stammered. _Smooth, Winchester._ Cas just stared at him, confused.

“What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, of course not, Cas. Let’s, let’s, uh, just get the hell outta here, ok?”

After burning the djinn’s body, they headed back to the motel. No matter how much he tried to keep his eyes straight ahead on the road, Dean found them constantly sliding over towards the angel. Cas sat with inhuman stillness, his tie loose and askew as usual, his hair casually messy. The ride was mostly silent, but not uncomfortable. Absently, Dean rubbed at his neck, the soreness jolting his mind awake and into focus.

The motel was like the thousands he and Sam had stayed at over their whole lives: old, cramped, and decorated by someone who clearly thought yard sales were fashionable boutiques. This time, however, there was just the one bed, and Dean idly reflected on how rare it was for him to have his own space on the road, how nice it was not to sleep with his gigantor brother’s snores and snuffles providing background music from the next bed.

“So, are you going to get a room, too, or are you heading back to deal with more angel crap?”

“I thought I would stay here and make sure you are well after that djinn attack.”

“Right, well, I’m just gonna crash, so I don’t know what you—”

“I will watch over you as you sleep.”

Cas had said this before, but for some reason, Dean wasn’t bothered by it this time. Maybe it was because Sam wasn’t around. Maybe he was just too fucking tired from the djinn to care. Maybe it was because of what was said back at the warehouse.

“Um, sure. I’m just gonna— ” Dean headed into the bathroom with his duffel, stripped, and got the shower going hot. _What the hell is wrong with me? What am I gonna do about Cas?_ The steam and hot water calmed him, and when he got out, he felt more like himself. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, absently annoyed with how they clung and stuck in the humidity of the room.

With a hand, he wiped the steam away from the mirror and stared at the marks on his neck. _Fuck._ Through the normal bruising, Dean could see faint inky webs of poison from the djinn. _But I’m awake, this isn’t a fantasy world. If this isn’t real, then where’s my apple pie life and Mom and..._  Dean leaned in across the sink to get a better look at the marks. They were barely visible under the bruising; he must not have gotten enough of a dose to put him out completely.

Something clicked in his mind and he burst out of the bathroom, not caring that he probably looked like a maniac. Cas was sitting on the bed, idly flipping through the Gideon Bible he had found in the nightstand. In any other circumstance, Dean probably would have found this funny. As soon as the angel saw Dean, he dropped the Bible and went over to him.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

Unsure of how to begin, Dean killed a moment or two by running his hand through his hair. Finally, he managed to get his thoughts in order. “Cas, uh, back at the warehouse, did you tell me you…that you…loved?...me?”

“No,” he frowned. “Why do you ask?”

_What the hell what the hell what the hell._

“Nothing, nothing, I just, uh, must have heard you wrong.” _Shitfuckshit._ Dean could feel the red rising up the back of his neck and prayed like he’d never prayed before that he wouldn’t started blushing like some fucking teenage girl.

“Dean. There's something more to this. I can’t help you if you do not tell me,” Cas said as studied Dean’s face closely. Personal space had never been one of the angel’s strong suits. The blue eyes flicked over every inch of Dean’s face, and finally landed on the djinn’s mark. “You were poisoned.”

“Yeah, I think so. Not enough to go under, I guess.”

“And you are feeling the effects?” By now, Cas’s gaze had returned to Dean’s eyes and they were locked into one of their typical stare-offs.

“I’m not sure. Maybe. I dunno. I’m sorry, man, I don’t want to freak you out. It’s nothing.”

Cas quietly considered this for a moment, trying to untangle and decipher the human emotions radiating from the man in front of him. No matter how long he spent among humans, Cas would never be able to understand how they made such simple feelings so unnecessarily complicated.

“You assume I'm bothered by what the djinn made you think I said.” Cas paused. “And you are bothered because you believe it is just a fantasy.”

“Is it?” Dean asked, his voice full of trepidation, but maybe a little hope.

Another pause. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but to Dean it felt like an eternity in Hell…and as someone who had spent forty years there, he would know.

“I didn't say ‘I love you’ in the warehouse, but it is true,” Cas admitted, breaking eye contact.

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He needed something to do, anything to break up this conversation, and so he went back into the bathroom and splashed cold water over his face. When he went back in the room, he sat down on the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He couldn’t believe it. _This is my fantasy? I want to hear Cas say he loves me? Does this mean…Am I in love with Cas?_ He sat quietly for some time, painfully aware of the angel’s presence only a few feet away. Even without looking, he knew that concern, confusion, and hurt would be warring on Cas’ face. _He thinks I’m rejecting him._ His stomach knotted; somehow that thought was worse than the panic already going on in his mind.

“Cas,” he said in almost a whisper, “if I’m still poisoned, how do I know what you said just now is for real?”

“You don’t. I imagine that such a low dose will wear off in a few hours. If you still want to know, ask me again then.” Cas stopped, carefully considering his next words. “Dean, if you do not want this, I underst—”

“No, no, Cas. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come across like this. I just… This is just unexpected.” _But is it, really?_ Dean stood up, crossed to Cas, put and a hand on his shoulder for a moment, then took his hand, smiling. “Who would’ve thought being poisoned by a djinn would be a good thing?”

Cas returned the smile. “Ask again in a few hours.”

 

** Epilogue **

 

Dean was relieved when he finally looked in the mirror and saw just normal bruising from the djinn’s hand around his neck. No more poisonous tracks lurking beneath the surface, and although he hadn’t really noticed it until now, his head felt clearer than it had ever since the warehouse.

“Cas!” he called out to the bedroom as he stood staring at the mirror. _What if I imagined it all? What if the djinn got me worse than I thought?_ God, he would feel like such a jackass if he’d spent the day mooning over Cas only to find out his djinn-poisoned brain had been mistranslating everything.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice behind him was concerned, and Dean was surprised to find the angel was for once _not_ all up in his personal space. His stomach dropped suddenly; distance was never good.

_Shit. I was so wrong._

Luckily, Dean’s brain snapped back into gear when he noticed the expression on Cas’ face: it was the same expression he’d always worn around Dean, and the hunter kicked himself that he’d never recognized it for what it was.

Love.

The pieces all tumbled together. _I’m such an idiot._ Dean’s mind did a quick montage of all that Cas had done from him over the years, from giving up his celestial army for Dean to raising him from Hell. _I’m a fucking moron. Damn, Cas, you really know how to pick ‘em, huh?_

Dean turned away from the mirror to face Cas and cleared his throat.

“It’s just a bruise now. Poison’s all gone.”

“How do you feel?”

“Better.” The angel just stared at him, and Dean knew that behind Cas’ façade of impassivity, he was resisting the urge to continue their conversation before and trying not to let his hopes up. Dean swallowed, then decided to dive right in. “So, is it true? If it isn’t, man, just tell me now and I’m sorry I got all weird with the djinn poison and I’ll just let it go.” _Shut up, Winchester. Quit rambling._

“Yes, Dean, it was and is true. There’s a reason why my brethren mistrust or resent me—and you. All that I’ve done, I’ve done for you. Not humanity. You, Dean Winchester.”

Dean had never been a man of words, so he did what he knew best: he took action. He felt Cas tense up at first as he pressed his lips to the angel’s, but Cas sunk into the kiss as Dean pulled him closer. Dean didn’t care that Cas seemed unsure of what to do, Cas didn’t mind being taught.

For once, Dean’s silent prayer didn’t go to Castiel; it went to a dead djinn. _Thanks._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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